Stumble
by Lost-puppyEYES
Summary: -noun. a slip or blunder
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** As you all know, the mother of _Skip Beat!_ is not an adolescent teen who lives a boring -yet busy- high school life.

**Alibi:** Forgive me to those who may have already read and/or reviewed this segment, however my younger sister had posted this as a new story without my consent and it had yet to be disclaimed and edited.

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**Chapter the First**

It was a happy moment.

Both of them sitting side-by-side on that bench as she animatedly spoke about how happy she was to have made some more new friends in her latest drama. Her second romance since her debut from the President's "rehab for the love-less," better known as the Love-Me Section.

Caught in the la-la waves her small person was emitting, he happily responded that he was glad she was doing so well with her life, that if she ever needed any help she was always welcome to ask for his, and that he loved her.

Both of their eyes widened in shock.

_Wait, what?! _

The happy atmosphere crashed around them and fell to pieces.

Time was still for a matter of thirteen seconds.

She stood up and looked at him.

And she was not only shocked; she was shaking her head in denial.

_No, wait! He'd said that on accident!_

She was backing away.

_He hadn't meant to say it!_

She was going to run away.

_But, no! He did mean it!_

There was no doubt that her mind was suddenly thrown into confusion and working in overdrive.

Panic overtook him and before he knew it, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his body into an embrace.

And he held on, as her small lithe frame encaged within his arms seemed so fragile at the frozen moment.

A hand upon her lower back, and a hand upon the back of her head, he thought it was a coincidental yet adorable trait of hers that she fit so easily to him.

They were both shaking.

Her; from this sudden display of affection, need, weakness, and possession from the man who she saw as a calm, imposing, adored and wanted actor of Japan.

Him; from fright of possibly being rejected and erased from the memory of the one woman who held his entire being within her small, beautiful, delicate hands.

She had had it for so many months now; it being almost near two and-a-half years since they met again after ten years of mortal loneliness.

And the irony of it all was that she still didn't even realize it.

She even knew everything about him now, she knew more about him than his parents, more than his fans and Yashiro, more than even the president.

Everything about him she knew: his name, his identity, his faults and weaknesses.

The only thing she didn't know was how important she truly was to him.

She didn't realize that she was his world.

He could feel her hands on his chest, feebly trying to push herself free, trying to push him away.

He only held her closer.

She was whimpering.

Gently he whispered into her ear, causing her to cease her half-hearted trembling.

"I'm not sorry, I'm not joking. Please, give me a chance." With that said, he gave her a chaste, lingering kiss upon her left cheek. Then softly, slowly, he let her go; careful to hide the raw pain, fear, and weakness he was feeling.

She took two steps back, her head bowed, her bangs covering whatever feelings her golden eyes were showing.

Minutes passed as each of them stood there facing each other, neither making a move, and neither making a sound.

Then, carefully she bowed to him, said she looked forward to the shoot they would have together tomorrow, and left.

And suddenly a dull pain resided deep within his chest, seeming to have a beat rhythm.

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Please, criticisms and/or simple reviews are welcomed. -- **L~PE**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** As said before, Nakamura Yoshiki is not a 14-year-old girl procrastinating on 20 lbs of homework. oh~ wonderful homework. =_=

**Note: **I had to relieve some stress. Please forgive the lack of action.

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**Chapter the Second**

Sitting in a reclining chair facing the reflective surface of a mirror was a man who was classified as a god in the acting industry. To an entire population of humanity in a small country which glowed in the night he was a Casanova above all others. His very smile could steal the hearts of any female (and -at times- male) within a twenty-meter radius.

He was the ideal, the top bachelor. And a most wanted gentleman.

And he was sighing the life out of him as he continued gazing at his reflection upon the clean surface of the mirror.

Despite having accidentally allowed his feelings for her to slip from his lips, he had held onto his control spectacularly. When they had met on set today, he had been careful to act as if it were any other ordinary day. The topic of his yearning heart had not even been hinted at, and she had quickly eased up because of that.

Why?! Why in God's name had he let it slip? He had not imagined how exactly he would tell her if ever, but he had not expected it to be out of his control. He had, in the very least, wanted it to be in a situation where there was a one-hundred-and-two percent knowledge that she would accept him.

He ignored the dull persisting pain within the epicenter to the left of his chest.

She hadn't officially rejected him yet.

Her being frightened of him was just her nervousness showing.

At least she hadn't run away screaming.

And she didn't despise him.

Yet why the hell was the persistent beating of pain not lessening in the very least?!

He sighed and let his head fall into his hands; roughly shaking himself in an effort to clear his thoughts.

Fate was never on his side from the beginning.

He was certain somewhere out there, a god was laughing at him.

And all the while, unknowing to him, a bespectacled man stood in the entrance to the dressing room witness to it all; having come in the first place to check and see if his charge was ready to go to their next destination.

-~-~-~-

Had there been an audience, the frown upon his features would not have been missed along with the sadness in his eyes which claimed his helplessness to the situation.

He hadn't planned for things to get so out of hand. He hadn't even considered for things to get so out of hand.

But they had.

Unseen and unnoticed by the two of them, he had been watching from behind a potted plant roughly out of eye-contact. And, like at all other times, he had been silently begging the immature boy to make a move.

So, when those three blessed words had popped out of his charge's mouth, he had been so shocked and happy he might have been in danger of spoiling the moment by jumping in and beginning to squeeze the life out of the two unsuspecting actors with a bear hug.

But his happy moment was to have been short-lived.

Because then, before he knew it, Japan's most beloved actor was standing alone in an empty hall with a near-broken heart as his mask fell and revealed the most unguarded expression ever shown.

Yes, his happy moment had indeed been short-lived.

And now, as he silently walked just behind the man who he was certain was clinging onto a thin thread of hope, he could do nothing but watch as the mask showed no hint of the chaos hidden within.

And he, with what he was planning to do next, knew he was treading on thin ice to only continue walking onto water.

Deep water.

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I am going to set a _Skip Beat!_ record by not using any names in this multi-chapter fanfiction! Hahaha!!!

Alas, please review. **--L~PE**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter the Third**

He'd done it. He'd told her.

He'd traced her down and told her.

Now, all he had to do was continue hiding from that beast of a woman that was her best friend if he wanted to continue living.

Currently, he was hiding in the men's room. Nervous sweat running down his skin as he stood, stone-like and tensed, within one of the stalls. Just. Like. A. Cowardly. Schoolboy.

But really? He had good reason to.

Those echoing bangs just outside the door were not dissimilar to the theme of that American movie he had seen as a teenager. Something to do with an oversized shark if he remembered correctly.

His grip on the handle of his designer briefcase tightened with fear.

Yes. One could call him a coward, but he wasn't suicidal.

The outraged shouts of his name, title, occupation, his ridiculous Casanova-of-a-charge, what-ill-will-would-befall-him-when-he-was-found, were only steadily getting louder.

Then they abrubtly stopped, but he had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be wise of him to walk out of the tiled-white room just yet.

Angry was an understatement. She was furious. No, furious didn't even brush the emotion she was currently expelling.

In fact, she resembled a very life-like tsukimono, or tenma.

Beautiful raven hair, aristocratic features, designer clothing, and top-brand make-up, didn't exactly attract people to her when she was angery. Not that she even wanted to attract people even if she wasn't angry.

She'd just stepped into the atrociously decorated room of Love-Me to change into those equally atrocious cover-alls, only to find tears silently dripping from eyes of molten gold. Now, had those eyes belonged to anyone else, she wouldn't have looked twice. However, it was _those eyes _that were crying.

And truth be told, tears were extremely out-of-place in those eyes to her opinion.

Entirely unused to the gut-wrenching feeling somewhere in her naval, she had angrily, frustratingly, worriedly, asked, demanded, that she be told what had happened and who's dastardly-arse-she-should-be-mowing-down-with-a-sledgehammer-right-now it was that caused it all.

Her reply was determined and confused swipes to a tear-stained, make-up-less face, and a blubbered reply containing jumbled sounds.

Instantly her mind conjured an image of that bespectacled, light-haired, unnassuming, organized, manager of the Cowardly Handsome God.

And she was off.

And that was how she found herself in the situation involving workers, idols, and business people all giving her an exceptionally wide berth while she glared daggers, bullets, torpedoes, chainsaws, and hack blades at the door with a picture of a stickman on it.

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Okay, I admit. Truth be told is that I almost forgot about this whole story altogether. **-L~PE**


End file.
